The Bear and the Maiden Fair
by wibblywobblywesteros
Summary: Ser Jorah only wants to regain his honor. Will Arya Stark allow him to do that? Maybe she can send him to rescue Sansa. Begins after Dance With Dragons. (Doesn't anyone anywhere ship Jorah and Sansa?)
1. Chapter 1

Ser Jorah Mormont wandered the marketplace aimlessly. The Second Sons did not get a lot of free time and when they did most chose to spend it in ale houses and brothels. Jorah wasn't in the mood for either one. He wasn't really sure what he was doing at the marketplace either except that it was better than sitting in his tent alone. He had been walking without knowing where to go for quite some time when he saw a familiar face across the market square. It was a young woman, brown hair, carrying a sword, who looked the very same as Lyanna Stark once had. There weren't an abundance of Westerosi maidens in Essos and Lyanna Stark had been long dead, there was only one person she could be. Rumor had it that Ned Stark's younger daughter looked very much like her Aunt and that she had been missing since her father's death. The girl had to be Arya Stark. Jorah watched her for a moment, unsure if he should avoid her or seek her out. Ned Stark had wanted his head when he was last in Westeros but Arya would have been a child back then. She might not even know or care about the crimes of her father's bannerman. He crossed the plaza and went to her.

"Pardon my lady, I think I know you. Are you Arya of House Stark?" He asked.

Her face revealed a momentary expression of shock before she masked it with a neutral one. "You're Westerosi. A Northerner I'd say by your accent." She said, avoiding his question.

"Aye. I was of the North, of Bear Island more specifically." He told her, wary of her reaction.

"You're Jorah Mormont." She sounded disappointed. "I expected you'd be more...villainous."

Jorah thought the demon mark given to him by the slavers looked villainous enough but he chose not to mention it. "I suppose you would. I can't imagine your Lord Father had any kind words to say about me."

"I never said I was Arya Stark."

"You didn't need to. You look exactly as your Aunt Lyanna once did. I knew you from all the way across the plaza." Jorah said.

"And you came over here for what? To confess your crimes? To kill the last of the Starks? What?" She was annoyed.

"If I had meant to kill you, I'd have drawn my sword and done it by now."

She arched an eyebrow. "I'm not so easy to kill."

He glanced at the Bravosi blade she carried. "You've been trained to use that?"

"Yes, by Syrio Forrell and others after him…."

"The Bravosi are skilled fighters. I suppose that explains how you survived in Essos this long. Most women who don't get taken as slaves have to resort to brothels."

"How do you know I haven't?" She disliked him making assumptions about her.

He shrugged. "This time of day, almost dinner, you wouldn't be wandering around the market if you were anything but free."

"I'm done here." Arya said and Jorah thought she meant to be done with her shopping until she walked away, making it clear she was done with the conversation.

"Lady Arya?" Jorah called after her but she didn't stop walking so he followed her at a swift pace and caught her shoulder.

"What do you want from me?" She turned to him annoyed. "Forgiveness?"

Jorah didn't have an immediate answer. She had perceived something that he himself hadn't known. He did want forgiveness. He had betrayed his queen and his liege lord before that. If he could gain the respect or trust or favor of the last of the Starks perhaps he could go to his grave with a little honor intact.

"Yes." He finally gave as an answer.

Arya's expression showed surprise then pity. "I don't have the power to pardon you even if I wanted to. I'm not the heir to Winterfell, Sansa is."

"I already have an official pardon from Robert Baratheon. I don't need anymore useless bits of paper. What I need is to regain my honor. I am under contract as a soldier with the Second Sons but when that contract is ended, what can I do to prove my loyalty to House Stark? I would offer you my sword but you already have one of your own….How can I serve you?"

Arya's mouth dropped open and for a moment she seemed unsure of what to say. "You can't. There is no house Stark anymore. Winterfell is burned, most of my family is dead, and I'm never going back to Westeros. If you want honor, then keep your oaths from now on. Be a good soldier with the Second Sons and stop being stupid and betraying people." She tried to move away from him.

"Lady Stark." He stopped her just before she could go. "If you should ever need anything, anything at all, you know where to find me.

She nodded and left him without another word.


	2. Chapter 2

It was several months later before Ser Jorah saw Arya Stark again. He had fully expected to never see her again. She seemed to be an independent sort of woman who was unlikely to ask for help very often. When Arya marched into the mess tent where he and Tyrion and Penny were having dinner, Jorah was more than surprised though his expression remained as stoic as ever.

"Arya Stark?" Tyrion said with amazement as she approached their table.

"Did you mean what you said, Mormont?" Arya asked, ignoring Tyrion.

"Every word." Jorah replied.

"When did you speak with her? Why didn't you mention this?" Tyrion was asking.

"Is it true you speak Dothraki?" Arya asked Jorah as if Tyrion wasn't even there.

Jorah nodded. "Well enough."

"I need your help. I can arrange to pay off your contract with the Second Sons … it will be dangerous."

Ser Jorah stood. "I meant what I said. I am at your service."

"Seven hells!" Tyrion exclaimed. "It appears she has sold Winterfell and bought herself a bear."

"Shut your mouth Imp before you find a sword in it." Arya finally spoke to him.

"So you do recognize me? Though, I daresay it has been a long time since anyone has called me Imp to my face….so what is this dangerous quest that you need our valiant Ser Jorah for?"

"I've changed my mind." Arya said to Jorah. "If you want to prove your loyalty to house Stark, get rid of this Lannister for me."

Jorah hesitated. "I could...but I hardly see how murdering people proves anything."

"Good." Arya breathed a sigh of relief. "Loyalty is good and all but blind loyalty is stupid."

"And if he had been blindly loyal I'd be dead!" Tyrion protested. "I love how you Starks think things through so carefully."

"Oh I thought it through." Arya said. "One less Lannister in the world wouldn't hurt my feelings one bit."

"You wound me lady Stark." Tyrion said dramatically.

"I doubt that." She countered.

"You still haven't told us why you're stealing Ser Jorah away from us." Tyrion said.

"I work for the Iron Bank. A merchant in Mereen bought three thousand Dothraki horses with money loaned to him from the Iron Bank. He said he had a buyer for these horses but before the sale could be made he died in some queer accident. The Iron Bank doesn't want the horses, they want their money back. It's my job to either sell the horses back or get the money by some other means." Arya told them.

"And if you fail to make this exchange?" Ser Jorah asked.

"Then my life is forfeit."

"I see. I will do what I can for you Lady Stark. When do you leave?" Jorah said.

"Tomorrow." She glanced over at Tyrion and Penny. "You two have survived remarkably well for not being….warriors….what do you think the Dothraki would make of Lannister wit?" Arya asked Jorah.

"The Dothraki have their own sort of humor but Tyrion has talked his way out of many difficulties and Penny is brave. If you were to bring them along, I'm sure they would prove useful." Jorah suggested.

"I could use someone diplomatic…" Arya thought out loud. "Alright, they can come as well if they want." With that she left the same way she had come.


	3. Chapter 3

It would take several weeks to reach the Dothraki encampment at a normal pace. Arya had them travel at a hurried pace the first few days and all of the party noticed the way Arya kept looking back.

"Do you expect someone is following us?" Jorah finally asked.

"Maybe." Arya said.

"Friend or foe?" Jorah asked again.

"Foe." She told him.

""How dangerous is this foe?" Jorah inquired further.

"Dangerous enough." She replied.

"How many people? One or many?" The knight continued his questioning.

"Just one." Arya continued making her replies as vague as possible.

"Lady Stark," Tyrion interrupted them. "I believe Ser Jorah wants to know the _details _on whoever might be following us. If you could kindly share with us what to expect we might not only keep our lives but we might be able to make an end to this annoying conversation."

"I don't know the details. I only know that someone seems to be following me for the past few days. A large man. I've caught glimpses of him. Nothing more." She told them. "I _do _have enemies here in Essos. I've made many enemies who would gladly kill me. And I have friends too... This person could be either one I suppose. But I think a friend would have revealed themselves by now."

The group soon fell into a routine. Each evening they set up camp. Penny did most of the cooking. During the meals Arya had many questions for Tyrion about Sansa. He suspected that he was brought along more for an update on her sister than for any assistance to their mission. He didn't complain. Instead he gave her as much information as possible. After the meal, Jorah and Arya would spend some time sparring with swords while Penny and Tyrion played cyvasse. Often it turned into a tournament where Arya and Jorah would play the winner of Penny and Tyrion's cyvasse game. And always, they were on the lookout for Arya's unknown shadow.

They slept each night in the open air around the campfire. Arya disliked tents. She told them a tent made it too easy to be caught unawares. An enemy could sneak up on a person in a tent unseen until it was nearly too late. Each night, Arya's nightmares woke her, leaving her sitting bolt upright and gasping for breath. She was thankful that she didn't cry in her sleep or scream as some people did. At least this way her dreams disturbed only herself.

"Are you alright Lady Stark?"' Ser Jorah was speaking to her just after another bad dream night at the end of the second week.

"Sorry. I'm fine." Arya said, coming to her senses.

"I'm not sure that you are. Not with you having these dreams every night…."Jorah said gently.

Arya turned to face him. She was about to give him some angry retort telling him to mind his business but the light of dying embers of the fire made his face visible and she saw only concern there. She swallowed, unsure what to make of it. "I'll be fine," She finally said.

"Alright then." Jorah said, laying back down for sleep. He didn't quite believe her but he knew her well enough by now to know that she didn't like showing weakness of any sort. Whatever her nightmares were, she wouldn't share them unless she truly wanted to.

A few day later, Arya was asking her usual questions as they rode of the happenings in Westeros. "So what do you know of Lord Petyr Baelish?"

Tyrion told her that Baelish was rumored to have been married to Arya's aunt Lysa Tully just before the woman died mysteriously. Baelish was not to be trusted. He was always sneaking and scheming, though to what end no one knew.

"My mother spoke of Petyr Baelish sometimes," Arya mentioned. "He fostered at Riverrun. She seemed to think he was quite harmless, that he was a dear friend. Do think Littlefinger is still a friend to house Stark?"

"I don't think he was ever a friend to house Stark. Brandon Stark humiliated him and stole away a woman Petyr was said to have loved. You have heard the story I'm sure." Tyrion said.

"Yes, I've heard about the duel. But if Littlefinger had met Sansa in Kingslanding, would he have been kind to her for my mother's sake or harmed her because she is a Stark?" Arya asked pointedly.

Tyrion stopped his horse. "Do you know something that the rest of us don't know? All these questions about Sansa and our marriage and now this speculation on what Littlefinger might or might not do….does it add up to something?"

"I don't know." Arya moved her horse on ahead, ending the conversation.

That night Arya's nightmares woke her again and though Ser Jorah had remained silent pretending to be asleep for the past several nights, he decided to say something this time.

"It might help if you talk about it." He said, startling her a little.

"You might be right…" Arya began. "But I can't…"

"Does it have anything to do with your sister?" He made a guess.

Arya nodded, sitting up to hug her knees. "Yes."

"I've have a sister too. I know what it is to worry about about the people we've left behind." Jorah said sitting up and moving nearer to the fire and Arya.

Arya gave him an irritated look. "So why did you sell to slavers you and then run away to Essos if cared so much for your sister?"

"Why didn't you stay in Westeros if you care so much for yours?" He asked pointedly.

"I came here so I could learn to fight and get revenge. I wasn't thinking about anything else." Arya admitted. "I suppose we both had our reasons for coming here… but _your_ sister knows how to fight. She can take care of herself and is surrounded by friends on Bear Island….Sansa is...she's different than that..."

"Do you know where she is? Is that what all these questions for Tyrion have been about?"

"Until a month ago, I thought she was dead. I thought she must have been quietly executed after Joffrey died. Quietly, so as not to further anger the North when it was just starting to be at peace….Then some Westerosi maid found me and told me she had come from the Vale where Sansa is being kept by Littlefinger. She told me that he killed my Aunt Lysa, she'd seen it herself and she ran away so he wouldn't kill her too as a witness….I know this maid wasn't lying. I just don't know what Baelish wants with her or if she's safe with him."

"I don't think she's safe." Tyrion was awake and had joined them. "I don't want to worry you, but I don't want to lie to you either. There's nothing safe about Lord Baelish."

"Then we need go rescue her as soon as this business with the Dothraki is concluded," Jorah said.

"_You, _need to go rescue her. I can't leave Essos without the permission of the Faceless Men and Tyrion and Penny can't go back without risk to their lives. I need you to do it." Arya spoke to Ser Jorah as if it were a command but her pleading eyes showed that it was a request.


	4. Chapter 4

"I told you I would offer you my sword and that has not changed. I will go rescue your sister if you wish," Jorah was saying. "But why me? You could hire any warrior to get your sister and you could have hired anyone to translate Dothraki. I didn't think you trusted me so I can't help but wonder why you would even ask this…"

"We should reach the Dothraki in two days time. I'll explain it all then." Arya told them.

They reached the horde as expected two days later and walked into their camp unarmed, or at least with their weapons concealed. After all the greeting customs were observed Jorah told the Khal of the purpose for their visit. The Khal listened and replied in Dothraki, offering Jorah a large sum of gold to rob Arya of both the horses and the return price. It was enough to buy a huge manor in Mereen and still be wealthy for years after that. Arya stood by waiting for his translation. If Ser Jorah seemed unsure, it was only because he had no way of knowing if the Khal spoke the common tongue. He didn't want the khal knowing his translation to Arya. Then he remembered her mentioning that she did speak Valyrian. He addressed her in that language instead.

"He wants me to double cross you. He's asking me to bring back the horses and help him keep the purchase price too, giving me a large percentage for my trouble," Jorah told her. "If I tell him I won't do it he'll likely get angry."

Arya breathed a sigh of relief. Then she addressed the Khal, _in Dothraki. _"You were right Khal Magor, Ser Jorah is a man of honor after all. Let us stay the night and in the morning I will give you the price of the bet before we leave."

"Do you even work for the iron bank or was that some sort of test?" Jorah asked her as they made their way back to the tent the Khal had prepared for them. He was angry but was keeping his anger in check.

"I do work for the Iron Bank. And I did negotiate a horse purchase with these Dothraki. But you're right, it was a test." She admitted.

"You've done little else but test me since the moment we met. Why?" Jorah asked.

"For her sister." Tyrion spoke up. "She wants to be sure that the man who rescues her sister will not take advantage of her."

Arya nodded. "I couldn't have just any sellsword go after her. And you could just as easily hate the Starks as be loyal to them…"

"I'll admit, I have no great love for your father. But it is more to my advantage to be loyal to his children than disloyal." Jorah said. "Yet I fail to see why a loyal knight has any advantage over a paid one. Either one could bring your sister to safety."

"If you can't see why, then perhaps you aren't as honorable as I hoped you were." Arya left them standing just outside the tent, walking away in frustration.

Tyrion followed after her. He caught up with her just outside the Dothraki encampment. She sat on a rock overlooking a nearby stream. He picked up a pebble and tossed it in the water. "I didn't think you believed in honor anymore, not after everything your family has been through."

"I don't. At least not the kind of honor in the songs. Not even the kind of honor my father believed in. No one can be _that _good. But some people have their own kind of honor. Maybe they don't follow all the rules of chivalry, but they would never harm a lady or steal from someone who helped them. And others are only chivalrous when everyone is looking...I had to know which kind of man Ser Jorah is, because you know what will happen if he does manage to rescue Sansa?"

Tyrion nodded, tossing another pebble into the water. "The man who manages to rescue Lady Sansa will very likely end up Lord of Winterfell in the end."

"That's why I can't send just any sellsword... I know she told you that she doesn't believe in the songs anymore, but if a knight comes for her...she'll remember the person she used to be… she's always wanted a knight to come save her...so I can't send just any knight…" Arya said.

"Perhaps you might have picked a younger knight?" Tyrion joked.

"It's not as if there are an abundance of Westerosi knights running around here in Essos. I've met a few. Two were arrogant and had a different woman every night. The other was always drunk and probably never bathed in the last four years...Ser Jorah was a far better choice than those three.." Arya trailed off. A branch broke in the bushes nearby. Arya pulled out her sword, someone was coming. A very large man by the looks of him.


	5. Chapter 5

Arya drew her sword as the man approached them. He was well over six feet tall. A huge man much like the mountain Gregor Clegane but with darker skin, and longer hair. With the stream directly behind them, Arya and Tyrion had no place to escape him. He charged at Arya with his broadsword and at the last moment Arya dove to one side and rolled away. With a roar he swung his sword at her again and this time she dove towards him, throwing all her weight at the man's knees. He stumbled but caught himself. He was apparently a strong man but not a very fast one. Arya was on her feet behind him. Her attacker spun around and lunged at her a third time. This time Tyrion dove for the back of the man's knees, hitting him hard with his shoulder. The large man lurched forward and Arya took the opportunity to grab his free arm and help him fall the rest of the way forward. Once on the ground, she put her sword to his throat.

"Why are you following me?" She demanded.

"I'm just doing as I was paid to do." He said, his hands raised in surrender. "He told me to follow you and keep you away from the Dragon Woman. To keep you from joining up with her I was ordered to kill you."

"I don't care about Danaerys Targaryn. I don't care if she ever goes back to Westeros or if she lives or if she dies." Arya said, confused. "And I haven't joined her. We're no where near her. Why are you trying to kill me?"

"Arya," Tyrion spoke up. "It's quite simple really. With Sansa still in hiding, you are the last Stark. Someone in Westeros knows that you are here and doesn't want the North aligned with the Targaryns."

"It was probably some Lannister who sent him." She said, pushing the sword a little closer to the man's neck so that pinprick of blood dripped off of him.

"I don't know who it was." The man protested. "He wore a hood and it was dark and I didn't ask his name."

"If I let you live, you'll stop trying to kill me?" She asked him. He was already Nodding in answer.

"Arya, I don't think-" Tyrion started to say but Arya interrupted him.

"Shut up and bring me that rock." She pointed to a large rock at Tyrion's feet.

He didn't like it but he did as she asked. She took the rock from Tyrion and bashed it hard against the big man's head. Once he was unconscious she turned to Tyrion. "We need to leave. He'll be out a while so we can get a good head start."

They hurried back to the camp to find Ser Jorah.


	6. Chapter 6

The group headed back towards Meereen. It was decided that Jorah would board a ship there and head for Westeros. Tyrion and Penny would seek an audience with the _Khaleesi _as Jorah called her. Jorah had nearly convinced Tyrion that he could be of service to her and that in spite of being a Lannister she would allow him to serve her. She allowed Ser Barriston after all. Arya would resume her work with the Faceless Men and wait to get word from Jorah.

It would be several months before Ser Jorah would reach the Vale. And even after he reached it and even if they were willing to let him in and even if Sansa were willing to leave with him, there would be no easy way for one man alone to get her out of that castle. Tyrion had ideas for getting into the castle.

"Seek an audience with Lord Baelish." Tyrion said on their last night camped just outside of Meereen. "Tell him you have just returned to Westeros after many years of banishment and are seeking his advice in how to regain your former position."

"I would never seek the advice of a man like Baelish." Ser Jorah said.

"Of course you wouldn't." Tyrion said." But you'll have to pretend otherwise. Petyr Baelish rose to power from nothing and if you were truly seeking to regain power after having all of your power stripped away, he would be the man to learn from. Plus, he will be flattered that you are even asking and flattery, my friend, goes a long way in achieving our goals. Littlefinger will be so busy puffing out his chest, he won't even realise the true reason for your visit."

"Alright, and what am I to say to Sansa to convince her to come with me? What if she doesn't want to leave? Or if she claims to be safe where she is?" Jorah asked.

"I'll write a letter for her." Arya said. "She knows my handwriting. She always said my _g's _and _y's _were wrong and that I had the most horrible penmanship of all the ladies in the north. It hasn't changed. I'll do the convincing."

"Do you know anything about the layout of the castle? Is there a good way to get out unseen?" Ser Jorah asked.

"I was a prisoner there." Tyrion spoke up. "It won't be easy to get out of. Fortresses like that are nearly as impossible to get out of as they are to get into."

"Maybe you can get out through the sewers." Arya suggested. "That's how I escaped the Red Keep. Sansa won't like it, but it might work."

Ser Jorah nodded. "It's as good a plan as any."

On the morrow, Arya gave Ser Jorah the letter she had written for Sansa. They said their farewells and the ship left for Westeros while Arya, Penny, and Tyrion waved goodbye.


	7. Chapter 7

Sansa sat sewing quietly at her husband's bedside. Harrold Hardyng, the new Lord of The Vale had fallen ill on their wedding night and had failed to awaken in the three months that had passed since. She had been angry, so angry that Littlefinger had arranged another marriage for her that she hadn't believed his promises that it would never be consummated. It wasn't until after the bedding and they reached the bedchamber when Harry drank a cup of wine at the bedside table and then passed out cold on the floor that she understood what Littlefinger had intended. He intended to have control of the Vale and of Winterfell through her. With her husband indisposed, there was nothing to stop him.

Sansa had tried to discover the source of the poison that was being used on Harry. She didn't know him or love him but she didn't want him poisoned either. But she could not see everywhere at once. She went to the kitchens to oversee the food preparations more than once and some servant or other fed Harry while she was there. She tried staying at his bedside but that gave her no control over what was made in the kitchen. So she had gone to Littlefinger and asked him the truth of it all. He assured her that Harry would not die. That his sleep was harmless and would only help her in the long run. It meant that he could keep her all to himself. She wasn't so sure she wanted that but she had learned by now to keep her misgivings to herself. She didn't want to be Petyr's lover and yet the way he looked at her, touched her, kissed her, gave every indication that _he _wanted more of her. She was afraid of what would happen if he ever did try to push things between them to a new level.

A knock on the door pulled her away from her worried thoughts. A maidservant opened the door to the chambers.

"Excuse me my lady, Lord Baelish bids you to come to his solar. We have a visitor in the castle." Said the maid with a curtsey. All the maids had been treating her more formally now that they knew she was a highborn lady and not Petyr's bastard daughter. Sansa almost liked it better the way they had treated her before.

"Of course." She said setting aside her needlework. "I'll be there right away." Sansa quickly brushed her hair and straightened her skirt before following the maid down the long dark hallway.

The door was half open when she reached the solar and Sansa could see a strange man inside speaking to Petyr. He was a knight, or at least looked like one as he wore armor and a sword. He was also an older man to her eyes, perhaps fifty, but was handsome enough given his age. Petyr caught sight of her in the doorway.

"Come inside Sansa. Meet our guest. This is Ser Jorah of House Mormont." Petyr waved her into the room.

Sansa went in as bidden. "I am pleased to meet you Ser." She said with a small curtsey.

"And I you, my lady." Ser Jorah replied.

Sansa was familiar enough with House Mormont to remember that he father had disliked Ser Jorah but she could not remember why that had been the case. "What brings you all the way to the Vale, Ser?" She asked. As the lady of the castle now, it was her duty to welcome and entertain the guests. Though unofficially, Littlefinger was the one in charge and she knew it.

"I have just returned to Westeros after a long time away in Essos." Ser Jorah began somewhat uncomfortably. "Perhaps you are too young to remember that I fled Westeros many years ago. I have been given a royal pardon for my crimes by King Robert Baratheon and had hoped to reacquaint myself with the happenings of Westeros now that I've returned."

After so much time spent with Littlefinger, Sansa knew how to read between the lines of what people said. Ser Jorah wasn't looking for gossip and news. He was looking for the friendship and influence of powerful people. Then she remembered something. "It was my lord father who accused you and made you flee, was it not?" She asked, kindly curious.

"Indeed it was." He could not hide the bitterness from his tone.

"Pardon me for asking but I'm afraid I can not recall what you were accused of." Sansa would have never dared such a bold question if she had not spent so much time as Alayne.

"I sold men into slavery." He said sadly.

"I see." That had to have been why she couldn't remember. As a child she'd had no concept of what slavery even was. "Well, if king Robert gave you a pardon then I'm sure you have paid for your crimes. How can we be of service to you?"

"I am told that Lord Baelish is not only a shrewd businessman, but that he has risen to power very rapidly from a lesser house… I have lost everything I once had. I thought that there was none other in Westeros who could better teach me how to gain back what was lost to me."

Petyr smiled. "While I am flattered Ser Jorah, I'm not sure that I have any special knowledge that would be of any use to you."

"Don't misunderstand me, I am not asking for free advice. Bear Island is mine. My sister is required by law to return it to me. I'll have plenty of resources and men available to me. I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement." Jorah said.

"Perhaps we can." Littlefinger agreed.

Sansa didn't pay much attention to most of their conversation. The servants brought in dinner and she ignored them in favor of the food and her own thoughts. It seemed rather unfair to her that Ser Jorah would take Bear Island away from his sister after she had been lady of the castle all this time alone. Why should the castle be his by law just because he was male when his sister had done all the work of a lord for all these years?

It was decided that Ser Jorah would be their guest for the time being. As they left Petyr's solar and headed to their rooms, Jorah stopped to speak with her alone.

"I brought a message from Essos for you, Lady Sansa. Your sister Arya is alive and well in Meereen. She wanted me to give you this." Jorah passed her a scroll of paper.

Sansa wasn't sure she believed him but she took the paper back to her room and opened it with trembling hands.


	8. Chapter 8

Jorah followed the servant back to the bedchamber that had been assigned to him. He hadn't expected Sansa Stark to be so pretty. Her mother had been rumored to be beautiful, and Arya was pretty enough he supposed, but Sansa was far lovelier than he had expected. And she was so so sad, the hopelessness in her eyes had been disconcerting. Yes, she had been polite and courteous and had even smiled at times but the smile did not reach her eyes.

He did not know what Arya had written in her letter or how he was supposed to propose escape to Lady Sansa. He would have to find a private moment with her and find out what exactly Arya had told her and if she wanted to leave this place or not. If her demeanor was any indication, Sansa was not happy here. Surely she would want to go given the chance.

Ser Jorah slept fairly well. He much preferred a bed on land to the rolling and rocking of his bed on board the ship. It was late in the night when a light knocking on his door woke him from sleep. He got up from the bed, wearing only his breeches and opened the door. In the middle of the night it could be any sort of emergency. Sansa stood on the other side.

"F-forgive me for waking you, Ser." She began, flustered at finding him shirtless. "I need to speak to you about the letter my sister sent."

"Of course. Come in." He crossed to the bed, picked up his tunic from the bedside stand and put it on. "What can I do for you Lady Sansa?"

"It seems that my sister intended to rescue me…" Sansa said. "If that is the case, then you are not here to ally yourself with Lord Baelish?"

"Aye, I am not." Jorah was relieved that she knew the truth of it now. "I came to help you leave this place and get you away from the likes of Petyr Baelish."

"But where would we go, Ser? Winterfell is in the hands of the Boltons. The Frey's have Riverrun. _This _is the only home that is left to me." She told him sadly.

"It is not safe for you here, my lady." Jorah said.

"I know it isn't. The knights and the servants are all loyal to Petyr and he isn't to be trusted, but if I leave here the castle will be his and I will have nothing left."

"I could take you back to Essos to be with your sister." Ser Jorah offered.

"I would love to see Arya, truly I would, but she knows how to live in a place like that, how to fight and how to take care of herself. I don't. It would be no safer for me there than staying here." Sansa had already given up on the idea before even giving it a chance.

"Perhaps you wouldn't be any safer but at least you would have your family and not some disturbed power hungry lecherous lord looking after you." Ser Jorah protested.

Sansa nodded, a few tears slipping from her eyes. "If I leave, Petyr will kill Harry. I don't want to be responsible for that."

Ser Jorah sighed. "We can not take Harry with us. It will be difficult enough to get just the two of us out. A man who is bedridden and unable to walk…"

"I know...can you make Petyr leave?" Sansa asked, hope in her eyes for the first time.

"Perhaps. Perhaps I can." This had not been his original plan at all but maybe it was a better one. "It depends on how loyal the knights here really are. Even if I can catch him alone and send him away without the knights to defend him, there's nothing to stop him from walking right back inside if they knights allow it."

"Then you can't. If you tried, Petyr would just have you sent away instead, or worse." Her sadness was getting the better of her and she sat down on a divan at the end of the bed.

Ser Jorah sat down next to her. "Has Baelish harmed you Lady Sansa?"

She shook her head. "Not truly. He has forced a kiss on me more than once but nothing more."

"I fear that a man like him won't always stop at just a kiss."

"I fear the same." She admitted.

They sat in silence for several minutes until Ser Jorah spoke again. "Since I can not force Baelish to leave, and you will not leave with me, then I will stay here for as long as you'll allow it and do what I can to keep you safe."

Sansa looked up at him and searched his eyes. "Do you mean that Ser?"

"Aye, I mean it."

"What will we tell Lord Petyr?" She worried. "He'll need a reason to extend your stay."

"We will tell him the the truth, that I wish to make amends for my crimes against House Stark by being your sworn shield. He won't like that I care for honor more than power but he'll accept it as one our quaint northern ways." Ser Jorah said.

For the first time in a long time, a real smile crept onto Sansa's face and this time the happiness reached her eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

Ser Jorah escorted Sansa safely back to her rooms. Once he was gone and the door was locked behind him she climbed into bed and took out Arya's letter to read one more time.

_Dear Sansa, _

_I don't know the proper way to write to a sister who I haven't seen in so many years. If I did know it, I would do it because at this point I would do anything to see you happy. _

_I am alive and am living in Essos. I fled Westeros not long after Joffrey's death. At that time, no one knew where you were. I thought that maybe you were dead. I am glad you're not. My travels have brought me into contact with a maid who lived at the Vale. She told me you were there with Lord Baelish and she told me what he did to our Aunt Lysa Tully. I feared for your safety with a man like him. I can not leave Essos. I am under contract with my employer and am not free to leave without their permission. But I wanted to send a knight to you. Someone who is honorable enough to protect you when I can not. _

_I met Tyrion Lannister here in Essos as well. He tells me that you don't believe in true knights anymore. You know that I never did believe. But overall Ser Jorah is not a bad man. He has made a few bad choices, yes. But he values honor and honesty and that is probably the closest thing to a true knight that Westeros has to offer. He wants to help House Stark. Please let him do that, for my sake as well as for yours. _

_I hope that we can meet again someday and swim in the godswood with Jon Snow like we did that warm day when I ruined tour green dress with my mud slinging. You said you would never forgive me. I think you will. I think you already have. _

_Your Loving Sister_

_Arya Stark _

Sansa cried herself to sleep but they were not tears of sadness, not entirely. It was a bittersweet feeling knowing that Arya was alive, bad penmanship and all.

The next morning Ser Jorah was waiting for her outside of her chambers when she woke up. She was not so naive as to fully trust him. Even with her sister's good reference, she was still wary of him. But she trusted that Arya meant well and that she'd always had good judgement when it came to people. Arya had seen Joffrey for what he was when Sansa herself had been blind to it. If Arya believed that Ser Jorah was a good man, than she was most likely right about that. Still, she was still planning to be careful until she got to know him better.

"Good morning Ser Jorah." She said with a small smile. He would walk with her to breakfast and she wouldn't need to worry about finding Petyr alone in his solar only to have him initiate some sort of unwanted contact.

"Good morning my lady." He let Sansa walk ahead of him and followed close behind. "Would it be best if I simply tell lord Baelish of our plans or should you formally request it at breakfast?"

"If I make it a request, he'll likely say no. I'll tell him I already asked you. It will go more smoothly that way."

"As you wish my lady." Ser Jorah agreed.

Petyr seemed surprised to see them arrive for breakfast together. "Lady Sansa, Ser Jorah, have you been getting well acquainted during the long walk in the hallway?" He asked almost mockingly.

"As a matter of fact we have," Sansa said with a friendly tone as she took her seat. "I was thinking it was time that I had my own sworn shield. My husband is indisposed and you yourself often have business away from the castle. It's only fair that I have dependable protection. And Ser Jorah would like to repay his past grievances with House Stark. He has agreed to be my shield."

Littlefinger did not like this news but he his it well, taking a sip of wine. "It seems you are not as ambitious as I had hoped." He said to Jorah.

Ser Jorah shrugged. "Perhaps serving Lady Stark can help to restore my honor. Reputation has a lot to do with ambition."

"Indeed it does. Are you sure this is what you want, Sansa? I'm sure any of the knights here would be willing to serve you." Petyr went on.

"Yes, I am sure. It has already been agreed on. I can't very well take it back now." She said.

"No, of course not." Petyr's tone was still mocking. "Well then, Ser Jorah, allow me to officially welcome you to the Vale."

After breakfast, Ser Jorah escorted Sansa back to her rooms. They were both relieved that breakfast had gone as smoothly as it had. He was about to take his leave when Sansa caught his arm.

"Wait. Petyr will want to speak with me alone after all that. He'll come to this room sometime today to convince me to send you away. I don't want to be alone with him." She said worriedly.

Ser Jorah hesitated. "What do you suggest? I could stand guard outside the door."

Sansa thought for a moment. She knew it was highly improper to invite him into her room but she was caring less and less about propriety lately. Besides, she felt terrible about making him stand in the hall for what could be hours with nothing at all to occupy his time. And she was so lonely. "No need for that. Come inside. We'll leave the door open. I have a cyvasse game in one of my chests."

They played cyvasse for most of the morning. As far as Sansa could tell, Arya had been right. Ser Jorah was a good man. If he had wanted to take advantage of her at any time, he easily could have. He didn't even look at her in the hungry way that Petyr did. There were admiring looks sometimes, but never the hungry lustful gazes that she caught Petyr giving her when he thought she wasn't looking. They talked about Arya. Sansa wanted to know everything there was to know about what her sister had been up to and what she had grown to be like.

The hour grew closer to noon and they heard Petyr's approaching footsteps even before they saw him.

"Sansa!" Littlefinger was angry at finding Sansa had a guest. "This is highly inappropriate. Your shield should be outside the door."

"You're one to talk. " Ser Jorah said. "How many brothels do you own?"

"My business establishments have nothing to do with this. Sansa is still a lady and she needs to act like one." Petyr protested.

"I am a married woman and if I wish to invite Ser Jorah into my room for any reason that is my choice." Sansa didn't know where the boldness came from.

Petyr sighed. "Of course you are free to make your own choices, be they vulgar or not. I only hope you don't come to regret them later… I came to bring you a gift." He left a package on the table between them. "I trust I will see you at the noon meal." Then he walked out, not waiting for her reply.

"He doesn't like my presence." Ser Jorah said. "I can't protect you from all the knights of the vale. We may have to leave this place after all."


	10. Chapter 10

Sansa and Jorah did not leave the Vale that day or the next day or the next. Jorah continued to slowly convince her to leave but he didn't push too hard. He wanted her to leave willingly, not be kidnapped and dragged away against her will. For well over a fortnight he followed her everywhere. He kept Petyr Baelish from spending time alone with her as well as the few knights of the vale who occasionally took notice of her. He himself spent a great deal of time alone with her and he knew that Littlefinger was growing more and more jealous of him with every day that passed. It was a precarious situation to be in but he had no intention of leaving Sansa. He didn't know her well or think himself in love with her but he did enjoy her company and care for her welfare. Too many people had abandoned her since the time her father died and he would not be the next person to do so.

Then late one night long after he had fallen asleep, Ser Jorah heard a faint knock on his door. He put on his shirt and went to answer it. Sansa was there, her robe and sleeping shift were torn at the shoulder, her eyes red from weeping, and she had a bruise on her cheek.

"What happened?" He asked, concerned. She didn't budge. She seemed numb with shock or fear. He gently took her arm and pulled her into the room, then locked it shut behind her. "Are you alright? What happened?" He asked again.

"Petyr has a key to my room." She finally said. She was facing away from him, arms around her middle, hugging herself.

Jorah felt sick. He had failed to protect her. "Did he force himself on you?"

She nodded, struggling to hold back her tears. "He tried to. I hit him with a flower vase. The vase is broken and he is unconscious in my bed."

Ser Jorah breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. It's no less than he deserves."

"I can not go back to that room tonight…" She said anxiously.

"Will you leave this place with me then?" He asked her yet again. "I don't think he'll kill Harry. He needs the Lord of the Vale alive to maintain his power."

"Maybe… maybe you're right… but I'm afraid to leave… no one knows I'm here and Cersei Lannister still wants me dead… and I don't know how live in the woods or make fires like we will have to do if we leave here...I'd be completely useless out there...I'm afraid to leave…" Sansa said, her voice breaking.

Ser Jorah moved to stand in front of her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "You wouldn't be useless. I can help you learn anything you would need to know. And I would keep you safe. I'll bring you to Bear Island. My sister was your father's banner-man and she would be glad to have you as a guest. You would be welcome there."

She looked up at him, tears still in her eyes. Being safe with her father's banner-man in the North sounded almost like a dream come true. "When can we leave?"

"We should leave in the dark. It's too late to go this night. Dawn will be here in a few hours."

"Then tomorrow night?' She suggested.

He nodded. "Tomorrow night."

"I'm still not going back to my room." She said almost stubbornly.

"Take my bed. I'll sleep on the divan."

Wordlessly, she took his offer and climbed into his bed. Jorah was soon fast asleep on the divan. With Ser Jorah between her and the door, and with the warm blankets around her enveloped in his scent, she felt safer than she had in many years.


	11. Chapter 11

They did not see Littlefinger at all the next day. The rumor among the servants was that he had fallen over drunk the previous night and bruised his head. He didn't want to be seen. Though Arya had suggested escaping through the sewers, with Littlefinger locked away in his room, Jorah hoped that they could escape another way, out the front door.

The knights didn't do anything to stop them when Sansa announced that she was going for a ride. Ser Jorah helped her to choose a horse and chose one for himself as well. They carried very little as to not arouse suspicion that they were running away. It took the better part of the day to get down the mountain.

"No one seems to be following us yet." Sansa said, looking back for the umpteenth time.

"That's only because no one has bothered to tell Lord Baelish that we've left the castle. As soon as he is aware of it, he will send someone after us, you can be sure." Ser Jorah said. "So we need to keep moving and put as much distance between us and the castle as we can."

Once they reached flatter ground, the kept the horses at a canter for a good long while. Sansa found the gait jarring but she didn't complain. She understood the need for speed. She had never liked riding and the effort was quickly making her sore and tired.

It was late at night when Ser Jorah finally allowed them to leave the road and set up camp. He came and helped her down from her horse. When her feet touched the ground she found that her muscles were clumsy and weak, unable to hold herself up she collapsed into Ser Jorah's arms. He held on to her firmly to allow her to find her footing. She found it and continued to cling to him anyway.

"Can you walk?" He asked her gently.

She nodded, seemingly coming to her senses, she pulled free of him. They had no fire that night. It would be unsafe as the flames might be seen by anyone who was looking for them. They shared a meal of cheese and bread. It was cold that night and the one blanket that they each had was not really enough. Ser Jorah had no complaints. Having spent so long in the heat of Essos, the chill was a welcome change. Sansa was clearly uncomfortable but she uttered not a word of complaint. Eventually, the pair fell into an uncomfortable sleep.

The following day was much the same. They kept a good pace on the horses but not a full gallop to wear them out. They stopped only when necessary, ate very little, and didn't set up camp until well after dark. When Ser Jorah helped her dismount this time, she was unable to find her footing right away. She clung to him, hands on his shoulders and he had his arms wrapped around her firmly.

"Why are you really helping me Ser?" She asked quietly, her eyes never leaving his. "My father is long gone and you don't owe me anything. You could have gone straight to Bear Island and never come to the Vale at all. Why did you?"

"I don't rightly know. I suppose I wanted to do something right for a change." He said meeting her gaze.

"And what is right?" She asked.

He didn't answer with words. Instead he kissed her and she let him. In fact she wanted to be kissed. It ended all too quickly when Jorah pulled away and Sansa gasped in protest. He walked away from her, leaving her to tend the horses and set up the camp. They barely spoke the rest of the evening. It wasn't until they were nearly asleep that Jorah spoke up.

"I hope you'll forgive me, Sansa." He said.

"For what, Ser?"

"For kissing you."

"Of course. There is nothing to forgive."


	12. Chapter 12

Sansa found it hard to fall asleep that night. She wasn't sure why she had allowed Ser Jorah to kiss her like that. When Petyr had tried to kiss her she'd only felt disgust. She had allowed it to happen out of shock the first time and out of fear after that. But when Jorah had kissed her she felt neither of those emotions. Instead it was warm and pleasant and it awakened feelings in her that she had long ago stopped allowing herself to feel. Those sorts of feelings were nothing more than the foolish dreams of a silly little girl. And yet here she was, unable to sleep because she could think of nothing else except her desire to be kissed again. She knew it was a hopeless wish. Ser Jorah had already apologized for the kiss. He hadn't meant it. She was far too young for him. He must have realized that and regretted his actions. He didn't want a silly maiden. He was married to someone else, a woman who didn't want him anymore, but he was married to her nonetheless. She was married to Harry as well. There was no sense in either of them pretending otherwise.

Jarah lay awake a long time. He had never intended _this _to happen. He had come here to Westeros so that for once in his life he could prove to himself that he was capable of doing his duty without letting his love of a woman or homeland or anything else get in the way. His love for his wife had led him to break the law. His love for his homeland had been what caused him to betray Dany. Now he was becoming distracted from his duty to Sansa by his feelings for her. He was supposed to be bringing Sansa to a place of safety. It was his duty to see to it that Ned Stark's daughter was safely at home in the North where she belonged. If the stories he had heard in the Vale were true, neither of her marriages had been consummated and could be annulled. She could marry again to someone more suited to her as long as he didn't ruin it by deflowering her himself. There was no reason to think she would want an old man like him anyway when she could find someone younger at the end of their journey.

The next day the pair continued their journey as if nothing had happened between them. They slowed the pace of the horses a little. In a few days they would reach the Fingers. From there they would sell the horses and take a ship north for most of the journey. They were able to talk some as they rode. Sansa had always liked stories and songs and Ser Jorah liked telling them. He told her many stories of Essos that she had never heard before. Some of them were old tales and others were more recent ones. He told her about Dany and her life with the Dothraki. When he came to the part about Khal Drogo's death, Sansa cried. It was just a few silent tears but they did not escape his notice.

Sansa liked listening to his stories. Part of her had always believed that the songs and stories were more than just words on dead pages. They were people, brought to life by the love and laughter, blood and tears they left behind. Arya had never understood how a book could make Sansa cry. No one ever had. But the way Ser Jorah told his tales, with emotion in his voice and sometimes tears in his eyes, told her that _he _understood. Maybe there were no true knights but she knew he wished they existed almost as much as she wished it.

As they spoke that day, as Jorah shared stories of Essos with Sansa he found he was surprised by her attentiveness. He had told many of these tales to Dany and it seemed she was only interested from a strategic perspective. How could this tale make her a better queen? What lessons could be learned about people and ruling them? Should I expect all Dornishmen to be like the ones in the songs? Dany had rarely cared about the story for the sake of the story. Sansa did care. He could see that by her reaction. The people in the songs were almost alive for her as they were for him.

When they stopped to camp for the night Sansa dismounted her horse by herself before he could help her. She didn't want to find herself in his arms again. She wasn't sure she could endure it. Not when he didn't want her like that.

Jorah turned to help Sansa down from her horse only to find that she had already gotten down herself. He felt a stab of disappointment but quickly pushed it aside. This only confirmed it. She didn't want him near her after last night. Perhaps that was for the best. He set to work setting up camp without a word.


	13. Chapter 13

When they reached the ship, Ser Jorah secured a tiny cabin for them on board. The sale of the horses was only enough money for one cabin so Jorah told the captain that he and Sansa were married and they were given the room without any questions asked.

The room was small and cramped. There were no windows below deck and the captain didn't want passengers roaming the ship all hours of the day. He allotted certain hours for exercise on deck and the rest of the time passengers were expected to be in their rooms and out of the way of his crew. There was hardly any space to stand in their room. The only thing they could do was to sit side by side on the bed.

Some of the other passengers had books with them. Jorah was able to borrow a few of them and he and Sansa took turns reading aloud the first day. It was as good a way as any to pass the time. Neither of them discussed the question that was most weighing on their minds. What were they going to do about sleeping arrangements?

The left the room for a meal in the mess hall twice that day. They walked around on deck when the captain permitted it along with several other passengers. By the time evening came there was no putting off the discussion any longer.

"I am sorry, Lady Sansa that I could not afford us a larger room or even two rooms. I'm afraid we've gotten the smallest room on the entire ship. It barely qualifies as a room. It's more of a closet." Ser Jorah said. He truly was sorry. She deserved better.

"I don't mind. It's fine Ser. Truly." She told him genuinely.

"I will sleep on the floor and leave the bed for you my lady." He said.

"But Ser," She glanced down at the small space between the bed and the door. The door opened outward and they'd still had to squeeze themselves into the room and crawl onto the bed. "There isn't room for anyone to sleep there."

"Well I can't sleep in the hallway. The Captain would likely throw me overboard if he found me out there." Jorah said.

"I only meant...the bed is large enough for two…" She said almost timidly.

He nodded. "Thank you. I'll try to keep to my own side."

Sansa took the side of the bed nearest the wall and further into the room. Jorah took the side nearer the door. The bed wasn't really a large bed. There was enough space for them to each lie flat on their back without touching or to turn over without touching if they were very careful but it was definitely not the bed of a king.

The room was pitch black after they blew out the lanterns on the wall shelf. Sansa was able to cry without him seeing her. She had long ago learned how to weep silently. She hated herself for feeling this way about a man who would never care for her.

She hadn't meant to reach for him in her sleep and he hadn't meant to reach for her but they woke up in each other's arms all the same. They were facing one another, her head was buried against his chest, one arm around his back, he had both arms around her middle. Neither could see if the other was awake without moving away so they just stayed where they were for a long while, taking comfort in the nearness.

After a while they caught the scent of food cooking. Jorah moved his arm and Sansa pulled away just enough to look up at him.

"We should go. The crew is serving breakfast about now." Ser Jorah said.

Sansa nodded in agreement. Neither of them said a word about what had just happened between them.


	14. Chapter 14

Each day on board the ship was much the same after that. By day they spent time reading or chatting, by night they went to sleep on their own side of the bed and woke up embraced. They tried their best to pretend it didn't happen but it didn't stop either of them from thinking about it for much of the day or from keeping them awake when they tried to fall asleep on their own sides of the bed each night.

Nearly a fortnight passed in this manner. One evening as they lay in bed struggling to fall asleep, Sansa with silent tears on her cheeks, Jorah with his arms crossed tightly to keep himself still, Sansa was unable to keep her weeping silent. She didn't cry every night. For the past three nights she hadn't cried at all. Some days were simply more difficult than others. It was only a small sound that she made, just a sniffle, but Jorah heard it anyway.

"Are you ill, Sansa?" He asked in the darkness.

"No. I'm fine Ser." She answered but her voice was shaken enough for him to realize she was not fine.

"I'm afraid you don't sound fine...are you crying?" He asked with concern.

"Only a little. I will be fine Ser, Truly." She tried to sound confident of it and failed entirely.

"Might I as why?" Ser Jorah began.

"I don't know how to explain it." Sansa finally answered. She didn't dare tell him that his constant proximity was as disconcerting as it was comforting.

"Or perhaps you'd rather not tell me?" He prompted. He truly had no idea what she could be crying about but he did know that she probably had plenty of events in her past that disturbed her and that she might rather not talk about.

Sansa sighed. She wanted to tell him how she felt. They would have another two weeks on this ship. Then they would travel a little way north by land and take another ship to Bear Island. If he did not share her feelings, and it seemed he didn't, then revealing them now would only make the journey more awkward. Maybe if she could get him to talk, then she wouldn't have to.

"Before we got on the ship...why did you kiss me?" It took all of her courage to ask the question.

"I'm sorry if that's still bothering you. I promise you it won't happen again…" Ser Jorah replied sadly.

"No. It's not _bothering _me. I wouldn't mind if it did happen again." She admitted timidly.

"What?" He breathed, hardly daring to believe her.

"I keep wondering why you apologized at all…" Sansa told him sadly. "I wasn't sorry."

"I didn't want to take advantage of you, that's all. I thought that perhaps you'd want to find some young man and remarry after we reach Bear Island. I didn't want to get in the way of all that." He told her.

"I don't want some young man." She said turning on her side to face him, she reached over and touched his cheek.

That was invitation enough. He turned to face her and pulled her into his arms. Their kisses were long and tender. It had been a long time since he had been with a woman but Jorah was in no rush. He knew Sansa was still a maid and he wanted to take his time for her sake. They awoke in the morning embraced as usual but this time unclothed. All their clothes had been stuffed into the space between the wall and the bed. Neither of them had any interest in breakfast. They didn't bother to get out of bed that day.


	15. Chapter 15

Ser Jorah had managed to save a little cash from the sale of the horses but not enough to complete their journey after the ship landed. There were villages along the White Knife where there was work to be found though. An old woman in the village lent them a room in her barn for a few days as well as the use of her bathtub and a change of clothes for Sansa. It didn't take long to acquire a single horse and food enough to resume their journey by land.

The journey to Deepwood Motte was arduous. Sansa's younger self would have chafed at such a journey. She had never liked riding or being outdoors in general. There was a lot of work involved with firewood and food to gather each evening. There were insects out here, and other animals in the woods that she could hear at night. Though she didn't especially like these elements of their journey, she said nothing about them. However, she _did _like having Jorah's arms around her all day while they rode. She liked the way he would push her hair aside while they rode and kiss the back of her neck. And when she stiffened in his arms at night because she'd heard an animal in the woods, she liked the way he squeezed her a little tighter and said, "You need not fear. I can still reach my sword."

It had been a long time since a woman looked at Jorah the way Sansa looked at him now. Lynesse, his wife had done so so he supposed, but only in the beginning. Once she had been faced with the lack of civilization and material comfort that Bear Island had to offer, her love and admiration had begun to fade very quickly. He couldn't quite believe that he was dragging Sansa through the woods, sharing a horse, sleeping on the ground, and she still gave every indication that she wanted to be near him. It was a welcome change.

By the time they reached Deepwood Motte, it was clear that Sansa was with child. Galbart Glover welcomed them freely and gave them a room to stay in, food, clothes, baths, anything that they needed. Ser Jorah sent a message to his father's sister. He was close enough to home now that she would send a ship for him if he asked it. A bird came with the reply several hours later.

_I will freely send a ship to you if you wish to return home. You should know that I have received five letters for you from the Targaryen woman in Essos. She begs you to return to her service. There is a ship that leaves for Essos in two days time from Deepwood Motte. Whatever you decide, the Lady Sansa is welcome here. -Maege Mormont _


	16. Chapter 16

Ser Jorah and Sansa lay in bed in their bedchamber at Deepwood Motte. Sansa lay facing away from him, immersed in a newly borrowed book from the Glover's library. He gazed at the lines of scars on her bare back. He had seen them before and he knew from the time he spent with Tyrion that they were caused by the cruelty of King Joffrey. Sansa never talked about them though, or about her time in Kingslanding, or her time spent in the Vale either for that matter. She often spoke of her childhood, but never of that time. He reached over and touched one of the lines with his thumb, brushing his fingers across her back.

"How did you come to get these scars?" Jorah asked her somberly.

She put down her books and turned onto her back, her eyes questioning him. "Does it matter?" She asked worriedly. She wasn't sure she wanted to talk about it.

"Of course it matters. Someone hurt you, beat you quite severely by the looks of it, and you've never once spoken of it. Why not?"

She swallowed. "I thought that you already knew, that Tyrion told you all about me…"

"He did tell me. That still doesn't explain why you never speak of it at all." Jorah wondered how she could be silent about something like that. Most of the women he had ever known strongly disliked scars and blemishes in themselves. She must hate the scars and the memory of them must be terrifying. Why had she never spoken of them?

"I don't like remembering it." She admitted to him.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No..no..You should know. I'll tell you the story just this once… When I was betrothed to Joffrey, he liked to amuse himself by tormenting me. Much of the time he tormented me with words. I learned to tolerate that. But sometimes if I said something he didn't like or if he was simply in a foul mood, he'd order his guards to strike me with their mailed fists." She said.

"This must have been after Ser Barriston was dismissed. He would have never allowed such a thing." Jorah knew that much to be true.

Sansa nodded. "Yes, it was after."

"Did they strike you often?" He began to worry that Joffrey may have been more cruel with her than Tyrion had indicated.

She nodded again. "At first they struck me often. Sometimes several times in one day. That was until the Hound taught me how to be obedient for my own safety. He never struck me, he was the only one of the goldcloaks who refused to do so."

Ser Jorah was a little surprised to hear of Sandor Clegane's kindness but not entirely. He knew that some men's rage and anger are just a mask for their inner pain. "Surely you didn't get all those scars from a fist?"

"No, I did not. Joffrey was angry over my brother winning a battle and he said I must be punished for it… he brought me in before the entire royal court… had me stripped naked.. and beaten… bloody… with the flat of a sword…" The words were hard for her to get out but she forced them out anyway. A few unwanted tears followed her words.

Jorah said nothing, he reached over and put his hand on her cheek.

"But it doesn't matter…" Sansa was speaking again. "It doesn't matter because I deserved it after the things I did… I betrayed my father when he wanted to take us home to Winterfell… if not for me he'd be alive and they would have never been able to beat me like that at all…"

"That isn't true." Jorah said firmly. "You were a child who had no real idea of what the consequences would be. It isn't your fault."

She shook her head, still crying. "I knew enough to know that what I was doing was wrong. I never expected it would get father killed but I knew I shouldn't have gone to Cersei… I was always apologizing to people in the capital for having traitors blood… and it was true...I betrayed my family…"

"I know what it is to be a traitor…" Jorah told her sadly. "Tis not an easy burden to carry…"

They said nothing more after that. Jorah held Sansa for a while until she fell asleep in his arms. He couldn't sleep. He hadn't told Sansa about the letters from Dany. He didn't know what to do about them. If he left to return to Essos, he would be abandoning Sansa and their child. But ultimately it was a war and men were expected to leave their families and go to war when their king or queen commanded it. He had believed that Dany was not only the rightful heir to the iron throne but the best person to be the ruler of Westeros. He still did believe that. But she had sent him away, banished him from her presence. He wasn't sure he owed her anything anymore, not after that. He didn't love her any more, he wasn't sure if he ever had or if it had just been infatuation.

Then it occurred to him, just as he was falling asleep. Perhaps he could return to Dany and bring Sansa with him.


	17. Chapter 17

"No." Sansa said firmly. She looked horrified.

"No, you will not consent to marry me?" Jorah had not expected this answer at all.

They were in the godswood of Deepwood Motte. Ser Jorah had asked Sansa if they could marry in the Northern fashion, before the old gods, and then sail to Essos together.

"I will not go to Essos!" She clarified, clearly upset. "I thought we were going to stay here in Westeros, on Bear Island, and raise our child here… Danaerys Targaryen doesn't need to take you away from your home. She has thousands of warriors. There's no reason for either of us to leave."

"Sansa, you already know that I promised her my loyalty, my sword…" He protested.

"I seem to remember you promising the same thing to me."

"That's why I want to bring you with me. It's the only way I can fulfill both promises." He countered.

"She dismissed you. She banished you! I would think that any promises you made are no longer valid after that." Sansa argued further.

"Maybe not, but what if they are valid to me?" He asked.

"Do you still love her?" Sansa whispered.

"I never said…" He began but did not finish his words.

"You didn't have to say it. I knew it just by the way you spoke of her."

Ser Jorah looked down, unable to answer her.

"Do you still love her?" Sansa repeated more firmly.

"I don't know." He felt as if the words were ripped from him.

"And what about Lynesse? Do you you still love her too?" Sansa asked, her voice was breaking.

"Sansa...I..I love _you _now. You must know that. Both Lynesse and Dany are in the past. I am _with _you, not them." He said earnestly.

"Only because you can't be with either of them." She said in a near whisper.

"That's not true."

"Tell me truthfully, if we went to Essos and you were guarding and advising Dany every day, you wouldn't be hoping she will want more from you than just your protection?"

The words hurt, but he knew that there was some truth to them. "Alright, we won't go. We'll stay here and marry and raise our child."

"I don't know if I can marry you. I don't know if I can believe a word you say." Sansa said, backing away from him. "I need some time alone." And with that she fled the godswood.


	18. Chapter 18

As she fled the godswood Sansa couldn't help but wonder what in seven hells was wrong with her? She should have known better. If she could accept that there were no true knights, why had she been stupid enough to believe in true love? Jorah had been saying for weeks that he loved her and she had said the same to him. She hadn't even thought to hope for marriage. It wasn't an easy thing to annul a marriage anyway but that wasn't the real difficulty. After two weddings already, saying more vows now seemed pointless. She remembered what the hound had thought of vows. And she remembered that her own father's vows hadn't stopped him from fathering a bastard. She didn't want ceremonies and promises, she wanted love, the real thing. All because she was stupid enough to believe that it actually existed.

She found a huge tree growing near the outer wall of the courtyard. She ducked under the branches and curled up against the trunk. No one would see her here from above. It was as good a place as any to be alone.

She didn't know what do next. In four moons she would have a baby, a bastard baby. Being a bastard wasn't so bad. She adjusted to it well enough as Alayne, but being fatherless was not something she wanted for her baby. As much as he hurt her, she still loved Jorah. She just didn't want to be anywhere near him for a good long while. And if he was determined to return to Essos… to Dany...she wasn't sure she could ever forgive him for that.

Sansa was angry at herself. She had known that Jorah still cared for Dany, and he even spoke fondly of Lynesse on occasion. She had been willfully blind to how deep those feelings went because… well because she had hoped he would forget them. Obviously he had not forgotten anything. Not if he was willing to drop everything and go running back to Dany the moment she called for him.

Sansa stayed there, under the branches of the tree for several hours hoping that her head would clear and the world would make sense again. She was beginning to think that maybe she _would _take the ship to Essos. Not with Jorah, and not to find Dany, but to find Arya. Why did she even need a knight's protection if she had a sister who was a warrior? She pulled herself out from under the tree and returned to her chambers.

The bedchamber was empty, Ser Jorah had not returned to the room yet. Sansa started working on packing up the few things she owned. She didn't have money for ship's passage but she was quite sure than Lord Glover would lend it to her. He had been very generous thus far. The ship would be arriving on the morrow. Sansa looked at her tiny bag of things and felt a pang of hesitation, could she really just leave? Did she have it in her to walk away from a man she loved?


	19. Chapter 19

Ser Jorah was in the courtyard with the Smith who was sharpening his sword for him late that afternoon when Lord Glover found him. He hadn't needed to sharpen his sword. He only went there to try to occupy his time with something, anything to keep himself sane. It had been stupid to try to return to Dany. It had been more stupid to allow Sansa to think that he still loved Dany. He didn't. At least he didn't want to love her and that was almost the same thing. Now Sansa wanted some time alone, after months of spending so much time together her felt bereft without her. First, he had wandered around in the godswood, then had gone to the Glover's library, then had sparred with the men at arms in the practice yard. By then several hours had passed and the only other thing he could think of to do was to visit the smith.

Lord Glover approached him anxiously carrying three parchments. "I'm glad I finally found you Ser Jorah. I have news." He said.

"Good news, I hope."

Lord Glover shook his head. "I'm afraid not. The birds have brought three letters this morning that will all be of concern to you. The first from Maege Mormont demands a decision on your return home. She says she will wait only a week and after that there will be no ship as it will be occupied selling furs in Volantis….The second is from Lord Baelish. He is aware of your arrival at Deepwood Motte and urges us to return Lady Sansa to her husband as he is now awake and ready send the knights of the Vale against our walls to get her back… and the third is from Danaerys Targaryen. It seems that she too is aware of your arrival here and in the case that you did not receive her earlier messages she requests with many apologies that you return to her service…"

"May I see them?" Jorah wanted to see the letters for himself.

"Of course you may. I will leave them with you. I should warn you, if Lord Baelish and Harry the Heir plan to march on Deepwood Motte, I will hand you over to them before I allow these walls to be breached. This is my home and you are welcome to the hospitality it offers for as long as I can safely give it. I will not allow it to be destroyed just so that the two of you can carry out your affair. Is that clear?" Lord Glover asked.

"Yes, it's very clear." Ser Jorah replied, his tone tinged with anger.

Lord Glover left him with the letters. Jorah read them and found no new details. Lord Glover had summarized the contents very well. He sighed. There was nothing left to do but return to Bear Island. He couldn't keep Sansa safe here, that much was clear. At least there he had a chance. And maybe Littlefinger wouldn't send anyone at all. It might all be a ruse to convince Sansa to return to him willingly. She wouldn't go back to Petyr. There was no way… unless she was so upset with their earlier conversation that she made a rash decision.

Jorah decided it was time to go find Sansa and do what he could to settle things between them. That is, if she would let him even apologize...


	20. Chapter 20

Ser Jorah returned to their bedchamber and found Sansa standing next to the bed, travelling bag in hand. He'd had an apology all prepared and on seeing her like that he forgot every word of it.

"What are you doing?" He breathed.

"Nothing, I'm just…" Sansa dropped the bag on the floor. She couldn't lie to him. "I was thinking about leaving."

He felt sick. He had hurt her enough that she was leaving him. "Where were you planning to go?"

"To Arya… maybe… I hadn't decided to go yet…" She said sadly.

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Then there is still hope?"

Sansa nodded, tears in her eyes, she couldn't trust herself to speak yet.

"Will you forgive me?" Ser Jorah went on. "I should have never suggested returning to Essos. You mean far more to me than any woman I have ever known. How can I prove that to you? I'll do anything you ask if you'll only stay."

Sansa could not stop the sob that escaped her at his words. "I'm not leaving... I haven't forgiven you yet but...I'm not going anywhere either…"

He approached her and hugged her. She let him, but she didn't return the embrace. She kept her arms stiffly at her sides.

"There was news from the South today. It's not good news" Ser Jorah said when he finally let go of her. "Petyr Baelish knows we're here. He sent a letter saying that Harry is awake and wants you back. He's threatening to send out an army to retrieve you."

"He wouldn't." Sansa gasped. "That's not like him." She went on when she found her voice again. "Petyr doesn't care for open battles. That's not how he gets what he wants. He'd be much more likely to spy and manipulate his way into getting me back."

"Perhaps that's what this is. Or perhaps Harry really is awake and this is all his doing, not Littlefinger's." Jorah suggested.

"You might be right. From what little I knew of Harry, he seemed like a passionate person. The sort of person who jump wholeheartedly into a decision without taking the time to think it through. It would be foolhardy for the knights of the Vale to march to a war so far in the North. He can't have thought it through." Sansa said.

"I can't imagine most men could think clearly when it comes to you. If you were my wife and someone stole you away from me, I'd gladly send out the armies of half the kingdom to get you back." Ser Jorah said. It wasn't a proposal, it was just a statement of how he felt.

"I don't want anyone to die fighting over me." Sansa said, wishing she could hide her flushed cheeks. "I'll write to Harry. I'll tell him that I left willingly, that I wasn't stolen. Maybe he'll stay in the Vale and leave us alone if he knows the truth of it."

"Maybe." Jorah said, but he didn't believe it would be nearly so easy as that.


	21. Chapter 21

Sansa sat at the writing desk that evening with a parchment before her, quill in hand. Jorah had already finished his correspondence with Maege Mormont requesting a ship be sent for them straight away. He stood over her shoulder, waiting for her to write. She couldn't focus with his hovering over her.

"Perhaps you could go to the kitchens and find us some food." Sansa suggested. She wasn't really hungry but she didn't want to be too obvious about sending him away. Not after everything that had happened that morning. It wouldn't be useful to stir up hurt feelings again.

He took the hint. "I'll see if I there are any lemon cakes left."

Once he was gone, she dipped the quill in the ink and began to write.

_Harry, I want it to be known to you that Ser Jorah Mormont did not steal me away from you. I left willingly. I did not think you would ever waken and Lord Baelish was not as kind a host as he seemed. I wish to stay where I am, with Ser Jorah. Please do not come after me or send any knights or call in your bannerman. -Sansa_

Ser Jorah returned soon after. "The lemoncakes are gone. I found apple tarts, and this flagon of Dornish sour."

"Thank you." She joined him at the small table in their chambers and picked at her food. "I finished the letter."

"Good. But don't count on it doing much to stop him. This wouldn't be the first time a war has been fought over a Stark woman." He said sadly.

"I don't want a war fought over me… I wonder if my Aunt Lyanna felt the same say...I wonder if she wasn't kidnapped either…?" Sansa wondered aloud.

"It's possible. Rhaegar never seemed like the type of man to take a woman against her will. Up until the war, he was known as an honorable Prince. He was very unlike Aerys. He was said to have the same silver hair and dark purple eyes of course, so dark they almost looked black, but he did not share his father's temperament… I fought against Rhaegar because my liege lord commanded it and Robert had me knighted for my efforts… but I knew even then that sometimes the people in power only tell us half the story, the half that will get us do their bidding."

"Do you mean to say that King Robert knew my Aunt Lyanna went willingly and he called for war anyway?" Sansa had never considered this possibility.

"I don't know. I think it's possible."

"How can we stop it from happening all over again?"

"Marry me, before the old gods. You're already having my child. If we make it known that you are with child, that we are married, then perhaps the knights and bannermen will waver in their loyalty." He said. "And I wanted you to marry me anyway, if you'll have me."

Sansa nodded, tears in her eyes. "Perhaps you're right. If you had asked me yesterday I would have said yes without hesitation… but…"

"But I didn't ask you yesterday. I asked you this morning and did a terrible job of it. Try to forget all that for a moment, I beg you… there isn't just the possibility of war to consider…and this isn't just about love either… there is Winterfell to consider as well." He told her.

"Winterfell?" She asked, unsure where he was going with his words.

"You are the rightful heir to Winterfell. Our child needs to be legitimized if we are to ever pass your inheritance on."

She hadn't considered that. She had long ago accepted that she would never go home. But even if she couldn't ever return to Winterfell, maybe her children could. She knew without hesitation that she wanted that for her children more than anything.

"Alright, I will marry you." She told him.

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Maege's ship arrives in one week. We will do it when she gets here, with her and all the the Glovers as witness so that no one can say it didn't happen."

Sansa allowed herself a small smile. In spite of everything, she found she was happy to be planning another wedding.


End file.
